Harry Potter: Tales Of The Great Dragon
by The Grim Overlord
Summary: 'Magic is known to do things that are unexplainable, and just when we think we have it figured out, it does something that we can't put our minds to.' - unknown wizard What if something unexplainable happened to Harry as a child, and he was transformed into a beastly silver dragon? Starts off slowly but Harry will eventually become a student at hogwarts. WARNING: The content in thi
1. Chapter 1- Prologue

_**HARRY POTTER:**_

_**TALES OF THE GREAT DRAGON**_

_**BY: The Grim One**_

_**A/N: This is the beta'd version of Harry Potter: Tales Of The Great Dragon. Sorry for those who expected a new chapter, but I decided to upload this first. The second chapter will be up in a few days. I received numerous complaints about the poor quality of this story thus far I have threatened my beta with a reduced salary if he fails to do it right this time. My beta is me. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else associated with it. Though I do own a toothbrush, pair of socks and coffee mug, which I will use to great effect in acquiring the rights from the venerable J. during a hostile takeover.**_

_**CHAPTER 1:**_

_**TRANSFORMATION**_

The winter months in London were especially brutal, the cold winds making it near to impossible for people to move about. The few who did though were covered from head to toe in numerous layers of warm clothing and didn't bother making small talk in the streets, preferring to just get to their desired locations.

Tonight was the first Friday evening of December and there had been heavy rainfall throughout the day. The skies had boomed overhead with the promise of lightning, and now a thin layer of snow had already gathered on the ground. That evening the weather man had eagerly announced that the rainy weather that had been plaguing the Londoners for nearly three weeks would finally let up for the weekend.

Children all over were awaiting a day filled with fort-making and snowball fights with great anticipation while their parents were simply content to not have to walk to the station through the rain.

Unfortunately, the bad weather seemed to be reluctant to leave and was now waging a proverbial war against the city. The temperature dropped below zero and the snow was starting to make the roads impossible to drive through.

The time passed midnight and on one quiet road a crack not unlike that of a gunshot was heard, along with the appearance of a tall and wrinkled old man with a long white beard that had grown till near his feet. Cloaked in a long robe and a thick midnight-blue jacket (that matched the robe) he hastily walked beneath the nearby doorstep of a plain brick-faced double-storey home. Hearing a loud yelp he looked at his feet and saw a black cat glaring at him angrily with its tail beneath his foot.

"Truly sorry, Minerva. I didn't see you sitting there with all this cloud cover'' said the man apologetically.

It was then that another strange occurrence occurred. The black cat suddenly stood on two legs like a person would, its black fur seeming to disappear as it grew larger. The fur was eventually transformed into black robes and a pointed black hat as the cat was replaced by another old person, this time a bespectacled woman.

"I'm sure you are Albus," said Minerva in a sarcastic tone "now where is Hagrid with the boy?" she continued

The elder man's eyes twinkled with an unnatural light "Not to worry dear, he should be here soon. Godric's Hallow is a long way from Hogwarts, after all."

The shape-shifting woman nodded sombrely in acceptance. Her mind was still focused on the terrible events from earlier that day. The memory of her favourite student in particular. If she knew what was about to happen to the child for whom she had sacrificed her life she was sure that Lily would turn in her grave. She prepared herself for an argument she had already had once before with the headmaster. "I don't understand why we have to leave the boy here Albus. I spent some of the day here and I can tell you that the boy definitely won't be taken care of here. I mean they treat their son as though he is some type of deity come to life, if they were to have to look after Harry as well I am quite certain that he wouldn't be properly taken cared of"

"As I've told you before, the best place for him to grow up is with his aunt. That way Lily's blood protection ward will be powerful enough to fend off from even the most well-co-ordinated death eater attack."

Silenced by the wisdom of his words, Minerva Mcgonagall- a professor at the most prestigious school of magic- Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry- decided to let the matter lie. For now.

It was nearly another hour before the man known as Hagrid appeared. Riding on a flying motorcycle with a large sidecar filled with a thick bundle of blankets. With a roar of its powerful engine the mighty vehicle landed on the pavement with a long screech.

A burly giant of a man, Hagrid stood at nearly twice the height of most men and the ragged looking traveller's cloak that he wore only made him more imposing. A feat that was bolstered by his scruffy looking beard.

He strode purposefully over to the sidecar, seemingly unfazed by the harsh rain that pelted against his face. Pulling out the bundle of blankets he continued to walk over to the doorstep where both Albus and his female companion were eagerly awaiting his arrival.

"Evenin' Professor'. Cold night were havin' eh?" said Hagrid gruffly

"Evening Hagrid. I trust that everything went well?" Inquired Dumbledore

Hagrid replied with seriousness "I found 'him layin in the rubble, can't believe E's still alive. There was blood all over him, seems tha' his magic healed most of the wounds, t'is incredible."

Shocked at hearing that the boy had been covered with blood Mcgonagall gracefully reached over and took the bundle from the gargantuan man's large arms. Opening them up a tiny black haired boy was revealed. His clothes had been ripped to shreds allowing Minerva to see the massive 'X' shaped gash that covered his chest. Gasping in shock, she barely registered that scar in the shape of a lightning bolt was on the child's forehead.

Removing the wooden wand from beneath her robes she performed a transfiguration spell to conjure up a pair of form fitting blue pyjamas for the child to wear. "Albus you have to take away these scars, they're unsightly- not to mention the residual dark magic I can feel coming from them. Who knows how they could affect the boy! Merlin knows how badly dark magic can affect the growing body of a baby." begged Minerva to her older companion

The old man frowned slightly "You're right Minerva, it will make life a bit more difficult for the boy, but these types of scars always seem to have a good purpose. Why on my left knee I have one in the shape of the muggle underground!"

Not looking completely satisfied, she reluctantly held the boy out to Dumbledore's beckoning arms. The child looked very healthy in Dumbledore's opinion, considering that he had been taken from the rubble of a destroyed building not an hour earlier. He had been inspecting the child for several minutes only to now realize that he was completely alone. He tended to lose track of time on occasion. Mcgonogall had probably left in a fury with Hagrid accompanying her. The woman had been in a righteous fury ever since the death of the Potter's "One day, our world will call on you again to save us from a dark evil. I only hope that by leaving you here I'm taking the decision that will cause you to aid us once more" whispered the old man in the ear of the boy, not caring that babies at his age couldn't grasp the intricacies of language. Funnily enough, young Harry seemed to nod in acceptance.

'Huh. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Though that is probably to be expected of one who hasn't slept in days' thought Dumbledore

Glancing at the door he saw a small wooden basket that Mcgonogall had probably made for the child. Gently placing Harry in it, he slowly walked away from the Dursley home and spared the wizarding world's saviour one last glance before disappearing with another crack.

The time was approximately 3am on the Dursley doorstep and the baby that had been left on their doorstep was still lying in it's makeshift bed. After hours of some of the coldest weather in London's history the temperature had dropped well below zero and the normally pristine green grass lawns of Privet Drive was covered in a thick layer of snow.

It was a good thing Albus had put a warming charm on the boy, or else the Harry would have probably already been a Popsicle. At least it would have been a good thing, had the spell not been deflected away from the boy.

You see, having just gotten the child out of a life and death situation, the boy's protection would not allow any spell to come near him, regardless of intent.

The extreme cold would have killed any other infant in minutes, but this was no ordinary boy. This child had a vast wealth of magic, not to mention the protection his dying mother had cast upon him, but even with those the child could not last forever. And sure enough, the boy's heart had begun slowing down for the last few hours, and now it was nearly non-existent. Sensing defeat, there was only one viable option left for the child if he was to live.

He would have to change.

Not in the sense of becoming a better person, but in the true sense of change. He would have to be given a body that could handle the brutal weather. Changing one's body was an ability few witches or wizards had ever achieved, and they were all quite powerful in their own rights.

But let it not be said that magic was completely understandable. It is not a simple science that one could master with enough study and experimentation, and from time to time amazing and unbelievable things happened. Having already determined the course of action to be taken, his magic began rapidly working to transform him into the best form for his unusual circumstances.

Numerous changes occurred to his body, though his scars still stood proudly on his chest and forehead. His limbs lengthened along with the tips of his claws. The frail flesh that covered his body became denser and the white skin that had covered it became silver scales. A tail grew from his spine and was tipped with tiny scales. Finally, the green eyes gifted to him by his mother's genes were now ringed by two concentric silver bands.

The process was difficult and painful for the boy, but he had long since been forced to enter unconscious bliss, and by the time it finished several minutes later an incredible sight lie upon the Dursley's doorstep. A tiny dragon with metal like scales now stood where the human child had been. Two black-tipped horns jutted out from his head, already quite large compared to the relatively small frame of the dragon. His feet ended in black claws and his tail swayed gently in the wind.

Having awoken at the end of the transformation, the youngster raised his head to the sky and bellowed out a terrible howl that would have made the inhabitants of Privet Drive quiver in fear were they awake. But now there was another slight problem.

True, the feeling of coldness had dissipated but now another urge filled the child. An urge known as hunger. Harry slowly trampled away from the doorstep of the Dursley's where he would have spent his childhood in squalor. Led by his new heightened sense of smell, he walked slowly to the end of the road where the sounds of cats meowing rang in his ears.

Three of the furry creatures were loitering around an old swing, engaged in deep conversation. But the creature Harry had become was neither intelligent enough nor concerned enough to try and make out what they were saying. He slowly crept up into some bushes near to the gathering of kitties. The three cats ears prickled at the sound of a twig breaking underneath the foot of the baby dragon. Without a second though they took off, leaving Harry behind.

The natural senses of the baby dragon kicked in as he coiled his muscles and used his powerful hind legs to give chase to the cats. They were quite fast, having already ran all the way up to Privet Drive, to a house where he could smell nearly a hundred other cats lived. Focusing only on the cats ahead of him he increased his pace till he had managed to close the gap between them in a matter of seconds.

There were only two other houses to go and one of the cats had cleverly decided to jump over the fence of a neighbouring house, leaving the other two cats to face the wrath of the strange silver creature. Of the two remaining there was one scrawny looking ginger cat and a rotund brown one with numerous scars all over his body, a sign that he had already been around for years and wouldn't put up too much of a fight.

For Harry the choice was obvious. With all the strength he could gather, he leapt toward his desired prey, using his wings to propel him further. Reaching out with his razor sharp claws he slashed at the neck of the brown cat, neatly decapitating it. As soon as he had gained some manner of energy in his legs, he hungrily set upon his meal of choice, ripping and tearing at the flesh. He vaguely noted that he did not like the taste or feel of fur in his mouth, but he was too hungry to be picky.

Ripping out the cat's entrails, he made short work of the ropey meat and continued on to the remaining organs. As he got to a strangely shaped red organ that had once pumped the creature's blood around, he decided to leave it as it was, feeling that it 'wouldn't be right' for him to eat it. Instead he chewed leisurely on one of its legs.

Alas, he was nary but a wee baby dragon and could not manage to eat all of the fat creature's delicious, if somewhat furry, corpse.

As the weatherman had foretold, by the next morning the sun was out in full force and the only reminder of the previous night's cold weather was the snow that covered Little Whinging, though even that was already starting to melt in the warm morning sun. In one of those little houses a tiny old lady known to most as Mrs Figg prepared for her morning walk, but not before greeting all of her beloved kitties.

Over the years she had amassed quite the collection of cats, some from Egypt, some from North Africa and even a few from magical Britain. Two of her cats were behaving quite strangely, forgoing there breakfast to quiver in the corner.

Strangely though the largest of her cats- a part kneazle named Mr Fluffy-bottom- was nowhere to be found. Shaking her head at that cat's antics- he was always running around, after all- she opened up her front door only to see a most gruesome sight.

There, lying in the middle of the road and covered in a thin layer of frost was the very cat she had been searching for that morning. Blood was spattered all around him and his leg was lying further away from his corpse, a chunk of meat had been ripped off it. The head was missing and the chest was opened, though only his heart still lie in there. Hyperventilating, she ran for the telly and dialled the police hurriedly.

Not five minutes later they arrived and began drawing sticks to see who had to bag the corpse for evidence. Mrs Figg shakily gave a statement at the station and returned home where she joined her kitties in mourning the dear memory of Mr Fluffy-bottom. He was very dearly missed.

According to the evening paper a wild animal was in the Little Whinging area and anyone living or passing through the area would have to be on guard. The animal was most likely a wolf or an animal similar to a wolf and a special Pest Control unit had been sent in to deal with the menace.

*Elsewhere in Little Whinging*

The 'menace' responsible for the attack on Mrs Figg's cat was now snoozing comfortably amongst the rose bushes of a house on nearby Common Drive. Transforming into a dragon and having to deal with the senses of a dragon had taken it's toll on him.

The sharp thorns of the bushes were nothing for his impressively tough hide, nor were the tranquilizer darts that two men cloaked in black had tried to shoot him with. According to the aforementioned newspaper article these men were from Pest Control, but in actuality hey were something different. They were wizards.

Having been sent from the magical ministry's Beast Division, they were to capture the beast and return it to headquarters before it would inevitably be shipped off to some dragon reserve or something. But though these two had worked in the field for nearly thirty years each and had seen all manner of dragon pups (as they were called) they had never seen a breed such as this.

With long powerful hind legs and flexible forelegs, this creature was obviously intended for more than the bulky movement of most dragons. In fact, it's build was pretty similar to that of a carnivorous animal like a lion or cheetah. His wingspan was average at best, but his horns were uncharacteristically long. And that hide- dragons were known to have thick hides, but damn! The brat's skin was harder than most metals, and it would only get tougher with age.

Looking at his long-time partner, the taller of the two men breathed a long sigh and spoke. "I guess you were right Jim, these muggle tranquilizers are worthless when it comes to dragons."

His partner just smiled at him briefly "Don't worry about it Neil, they did save my ass back when we had to take down that Acromantula base. Damn spiders…" trailing off at the end whilst lost in the memory of being pinned down by a giant hairy spider, his friend interrupted his train of thought.

"So, what do you say? Manoeuvre D-76?" asked Neil

"Of course" replied Jim

Dashing out from their vantage point they rushed towards the tiny dragon and- before it had so much as turned up it's ears- threw a silver net around it. The net was made of a powerful magical thread and could easily hold a struggling .Before they could celebrate however, the net suddenly gave off an ear splitting noise and a large circular hole was burned through the net. The little dragon that had been sleeping deeply only moments before rushed out and began running for dear life.

Determined to retrieve it, the two wizards gave chase to the four-legged reptilian. Amazingly, the dragon managed to easily outrun them, even after they had used several charms to make themselves light as a feather and thus able to move faster than the average car speeding along a highway. "Damn it. We are so screwed" thought the two friends in unison.

A month later and after devouring a total of fourteen cats, two dogs, six pigeons and one pet guinea pig, young Harry was still roaming free. The division had already cycled through all of its best two-man teams and none had managed to catch the dragon they had dubbed 'The Silver Nightmare'.

Now, having gone under intense scrutiny from the ICW (International Confederation of Wizards) to catch the creature before muggles could report sightings they had forgone the usual rule of only having one team for a single magical creature (Under five stars, of course), and decided to go for the kill. They sent in an entire squadron- six men total- as well as one dragon handler to put an end to the baby dragon's killing spree.

The seven men were now jokingly hanging around a café in Little Whinging, nearby Privet Drive where the creature had initially attacked a cat. It was quite early on this particular Saturday morning and though wizards in the beast division usually operated at night they had decided not for this particular occasion, since most dragons were usually nocturnal.

Elric, a tall dark skinned blonde man who worked on the Romanian dragon reserve was the one who had insisted for them to get a bite to eat before heading out. Feeling a bit peckish and not used to being up so early in the morning, the Beast Division wizards had agreed all too easily, and had each ordered a large mug of coffee with a tuna sandwich.

The Leader of this mission was none other than Tobius Greichfield, a near legendary wizard with a near unpronounceable surname. He had already been in hundreds of battles and rumour had it he had single-handedly killed a sphinx back in Egypt during a ten-month excavation mission. Having moved to Britain from Germany during the second muggle world war, the man was already in his senior years. Some would say that was a bad thing but they had obviously never seen Tobius in battle yet.

Elric had looked up to the man since before he had gone to Hogwarts, having read about all of his adventures as a beast division wizard. After hearing who would be leading the mission he wanted to see for himself just how good the man was. Approximately thirty minutes later he got to experience a taste of the man's experience. After making sure that all of his men had finished eating their fill, Tobius called for them to stop the idle chatter and pay attention to the debriefing.

"All right men. As we all know, this isn't an ordinary dragon pup so we need to proceed with caution. This dragon's caused a lot of trouble for us back at the department and if we go back without it I bet on my mother's grave that one of us is going to be sacked, and you can bet your ass we're not getting severance pay"

Several of the wizards chuckled at this. Even as far back as Romania it was well known that the British ministry was unbelievably cheap.

"So we need to strike fast and hard. There will be three groups. Three guys will ensure the security of the perimeter while another two will prepare traps and eventually bait the 'Silver Nightmare' out into the open. Finally, Elric and I will take it down."

The plan was simple yet ingenious. A secure perimeter would prevent escape, two skilled wizards to ensured capture and traps increased the chances for capture in case those two failed. Strapping on their protective gear (while the owner-a muggle woman- looked at them as if they were nuts) they prepared to engage.

A powerful tracking spell had triangulated the pup's current location to a small forest (technically just a patch of trees) south-west of the little whinging area. Following the plan to the letter, the group now had a relatively powerful barrier and a dozen traps prepared.

They had decided to change the plan a bit though, after finding that the dragon had barricaded itself in a hastily made burrow and wouldn't come out no matter what Theodore and Wilhelm (the wizards responsible for baiting the silver nightmare out into the open) did. Dragons were known to make these types of temporary homes if a cave wasn't available, and would drag back anything that caught their fancy as a treasure of sorts.

Elric was forced to use a special whistle to draw the creature out into the open. Much like a dog whistle, a dragon whistle played a tune at a frequency most humans couldn't pick up- and the dragons hated it. An example of how much they hated it was when some stupid newbie dragon handlers had once tried using it on an adult Common Welsh Green, only to end up in a casket. As in all seven of them in one casket.

Putting the spiral-shaped whistle to his lips, he took a deep breath before blowing with all his might. For a few seconds it seemed that nothing had happened, but then a terrible shriek rung out from the burrow and a shiny dragon pup came running into the clearing. 'Damn. Never saw a dragon like that before' thought Elric in shock

The creature looked around the clearing, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. Then, seeming to make a decision, it straightened itself up and ran straight towards where Elric had hid himself.

But the blonde man was prepared. Holding tightly onto his wand, he made a jab like movement in the dragon's direction while calling out 'Magnus Aquamenti!'

A large jet of water shot at the pup from the tip of his wand, but only managed to push it back slightly. He had hoped that the strange dragon would share the same weakness for water that most of its kind shared, but it seemed things wouldn't be that easy for him. Becoming even further enraged at the audacity of the strange two-legged creature attacking him, the dragon dashed towards him, intent on slashing his head off.

Shocked at the pup's impressive speed, Elric just managed to cast a 'stupefy', sending a red beam of light careening towards the creatures hard skin. Unfortunately for him though, the spell harmlessly bounced off from the dragon.

His claws raised in an attempt to kill the blonde wizard, young Harry was forced to stop as an intense pain shot out from his side. "Get back Elric. We don't want you losing your head, now do we?" said Tobius to the startled dragon handler

When he was sure that Elric had moved far enough, the aged wizard casted a barrage of powerful blasting curses at the menacing little dragon. The powerful attacks, though severely weakened by its extremely tough hide, had made the pup fall to its knees. Wiping the sweat from his brow (casting seven Confringo's after one another was quite draining after all) Tobius approached the pup slowly so as to bind it with the cuffs brought from Romania by Elric. He was shocked however when a large quantity of magic fell upon him, originating from the body of the supposedly downed dragon. Imagine his surprise when the young dragon shakily stood up on its hind quarters much like some adult dragons were known to.

It was well known that dragons had a wealth of magic larger than most full-grown wizards, but not many had ever been known to be able to use it for things other than bolstering their flames or flying (what, you think creatures that weighed several tons on average could hold themselves up in the air with their wings alone, did you?), but this pup had somehow managed to do just that as a black ball of magic was now rapidly growing between his jaws. Green sparks of lightning danced around it as it now began pulsing steadily.

'Oh shit…' thought Tobius, right before the dragon released the energy that it had been gathering in a wave of power, along with an earth shattering screech.

Elric was running away from the clearing, tears streaming down his cheeks. He felt so ashamed. He was supposed to be the best dragon handler in the Romanian reserve but as soon as he had to face a little pup on his own without a team of dragon handlers backing him up he ran crying like an inexperienced first year at Hogwarts. It was pathetic. Pathetic.

His mind flashed to back when he had first told his father that he had been back when he had just been accepted at the Romanian reserve. Instead of the words of encouragement that he had been expecting but rather insults.

"Why are you still trying to be like me, Elric? I thought that you would have learned by now. You just don't have what it takes to be a dragon tamer." He had said

Spurred on to prove his dad wrong he had quickly risen amongst the ranks of dragon handlers until he was called the best, and now all of that was meaningless because he had chosen to run away. To run away from the man whom he had looked up to, to run away from his responsibilities.

"No! I can't let this happen! I'll prove to that bastard that I truly deserve to be a dragon handler!" So saying, the strong willed dragon handler turned around and made to run back before a bright flash of black and green filled the area followed by a hideous ringing noise.

_Spells:_

_Magnus Aquamenti:_

_An improved version of the standard 'Aquamenti' spell developed by the auror Mad Eye Moody during the war against Voldemort. Designed to take out fires started by Death Eaters, it quickly became favoured amongst dragon handlers as a way to help control unruly dragons._

_Mad eye also created three other spells including the infamous 'Aconius' spell used to poison water supplies of suspected death eater strongholds._

_?:_

_Used by the dragon 'Silvern' (an abbreviation of silver nightmare) to great effect. A large amount of dark magic is condensed then released in a wave of energy. The attack can be greatly condensed and magnified though it requires a great deal of control. Very energy intensive._

_**A/N: Thank you for reading. Please read and review and thanks to all those who responded to the previous chapter. As stated above, the next chapter will be uploaded soon.**_

_The Grim One_


	2. Chapter 2- Prologue

_**HARRY POTTER: **_

_**TALES OF THE GREAT DRAGON**_

_**BY: The Grim Overlord**_

_**A/N: A big thank you to those who have supported this story thus far, I truly appreciate it. Now, for the part that most will skip. I have several announcements to make. I know most don't like the incorporation of OC's into the story but Tobius and Elric will not be heavily involved in the story from this point onwards.**_

_**Using what little time I have left before my teacher starts forcing me to start doing my work in class and at home (don't these people understand the importance of writing? I thought they were supposed to teach you skills at high school, not discourage you from improving them). I've drawn numerous designs for Harry (both in and out of dragon form) thus far but I can't figure out how to make my scanner work XD.**_

_**Disclaimer: I, The Grim One, do not lay claim upon ye olde rights to Harry Potter. Nay, I am but a lowly high school student and cannot as of yet lay claim upon even the lowliest of property. I thank ye.**_

As Elric stepped into the clearing he was unpleasantly surprised by the sheer magnitude of damage caused by the baby dragon's attack. The ground was charred and a massive trail led from the clearing to the road that he could just barely make out from between the uprooted and destroyed trees. Smoke rose steadily from the ashes that lie on the ground and he could feel a searing heat rising from beneath his dragon-skin boots.

The charred looking body of Tobius lie broken in the middle of the wreckage with the metallic dragon 'Silvern' lying across from him, apparently drained of all energy. The others had just arrived after him, having heard the hideous shriek and witnessed the flash of energy that originated from the area. Paying little attention them, Elric moved over to where the pup lie and cast a powerful binding curse on the pup as an extra precaution in case he awoke (Tobius had had the special cuffs on his person when he had run off).

The pup was dangerous, that much had been proven. From his crazily advanced natural instincts, extreme speed, razor sharp claws and horns he would give nearly anybody a challenge. And when he got bigger he would become a legend in his own right.

But for now he would have to settle for being an ordinary dragon (as ordinary a dragon as a metallic, laser shooting dragon could be) amongst hundreds of others back in Romania.

_6 months later_

Life wasn't going well for Minister of Magic. After the ordeal with the baby dragon in the Little Whinging area he had drawn the anger of the ICW who had put enormous pressure on him to get rid of the disturbance before strange reports were filed to the muggle police. Though he had successfully captured the creature it had been at the cost of having dozens of the residents report hearing strange noises and seeing a flash of light. That though wasn't his only worry.

Other than the dragon fiasco a number of startling facts was being made known to the public, the first being that he had unfairly dismissed two members of the beast division as a way to 'balance expenses and income' while still buying thousands and galleons worth of frivolous items and charging it to the ministry. His office was littered with hundreds of trinkets, expensive furniture and even a pensieve. The worst offence by far though were the numerous charges against him, including but not limited to bribery, indecent exposure and assault.

All in all, it only through sheer dumb luck combined with his hard-headedness that Fudge still stayed in office (though rumour had it that he would be getting replaced by the younger yet more experienced Mrs Bones).

Putting a hand to his temple and letting out a deep sigh, the Minister reached into his mahogany drawer and pulled out a small chocolate imported from magical Sweden. A box of those delicious chocolates cost nearly as much as a small house and the minister had dozens simply strewn about his office. It was a good thing he was being sacked, otherwise the ministry might have gone bankrupt.

Nestled amongst a range of tall mountains was a beautiful green valley. It's lush grass, numerous caverns and gigantic size made it the perfect location for a dragon reserve. Having been made unplottable (that is to say completely invisible and untraceable by muggles). In this reserve, the oldest one in existence, there lived several wizards whose jobs it was to make sure the dragons did so in relative peace. Which wasn't true peace obviously, as these were quick-tempered, fire-breathing dragons and not some of those muggle 'hippies'. Dragons were known for being quite territorial, hence why the main requisite for a dragon reserve was being massive in size.

For nearly a thousand years, dragons had called this place their home. Over fifty species of all shapes and sizes currently resided there, including but not limited to the beautiful Antipodean Opeleye, powerful Hungarian Horntail, fast-growing Norwegian Ridgeback and freakish Six-Winged Crucifier.

But though the reserve had seen many species come and go since it was first opened, it had never before seen a dragon such as the strangely named 'Silvern'. Silver scales, long horns and green eyes set this dragon apart from the rest of his kind. He had arrived nearly five months earlier after being captured in the suburban London area.

The standard procedure when a new pup was brought in was to simply release it into the reserve where it would be adopted by any kind mother dragon of its own species. While dragons got a nasty bit of (deserved) press about their aggressive tendencies, not many knew just how caring they could be to a dragon that looked similar enough to itself. Most dragons would not hesitate to sacrifice their lives for one of their own even if they had never met before.

But since a dragon like Silvern had never been seen before, the dragon had been forced to go stay in a cage while they tried to think of a way to have him live longer than three days amongst the dragons who would be out to kill him. Unfortunately, after three months of no plans coming to light and the terrible racket made by Silvern they were forced to release him. As soon as the cage was opened and shackles removed (remotely of course, they weren't stupid enough to be in the vicinity of an underfed dragon, regardless of whether that dragon be a pup or not) the shiny dragon pup ran like his life depended on it. It wasn't even three hours before the pup had already gotten into trouble.

When the stick-wielders had taken levitated his cage and carried him outside, Silvern had felt a pronounced feeling of dread. He'd been quite sure that they were going to do something horrible to him. After all, these were the same people who had taken him from his home for no reason. So when his cage opened and the hard cuffs binding his legs were released he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Fifteen minutes later and panting from exhaustion, Silvern actually took the time to look at his surroundings and was pleasantly surprised. Lush grass covered most of the area and he was surrounded on all sides by tall mountains. Intricate pathways had been carved into the sides of the rock, leading up to the mouths of hundreds of caves. And finally, poking their heads outside of those caves simultaneously were countless dragons. Like himself, they had probably all been captured by the stick-wielders and brought to this place.

All at once, the assembly of dragons hastily rushed from their caves, some crawling and others spreading their wings and taking to the sky. Wondering what the reason for their haste was, Silvern sniffed the air and found the delicious smell of recently butchered meat calling to him. Having not been sufficiently fed while in confinement, he too ran among his brethren towards where the smell was coming from.

An unnaturally flat and dry patch of land greeted him, the area having been flattened by the numerous dragons that gathered there regularly. Massive piles of carcasses had been strewn about in a haphazard yet oddly arranged pattern. Soon though, he saw the reason for this. Instead of the rainbow of colours there had been when the dragons had first rushed towards their meal there were now innumerable groups of dragons gathered in small congregations all around the area. The groups were split into individual sub-species. There were Chinese fireballs, Hebridean blacks, Ukranian Ironbellies, Common Green's and at least fifty other different dragon species. The two largest groups though were by far the Hungarian Horntails and Common Welsh Green's, their combined total constituting nearly half of all the dragons present.

Knowing that he was silver skinned, Silvern tried to find a group of silver dragons like himself but was soon forced to acknowledge that there were none. Nearby, he noticed a delicious looking goat carcass lying forgotten near a group of particularly boisterous Hungarian Horntails (not that Silvern could name different dragon breeds). Being as quiet as he possibly could, he slowly neared the forgotten meat. Reaching it without any trouble, he tried dragging it discreetly away from the gathering but was stopped when he noticed a large shadow looming over him.

Looking up, he saw the gigantic body of a Hungarian horntail looming over him. Landing with a crash, the Hungarian glared menacingly at Silvern. The dragon was nearly twelve times the size of the young pup before him, numerous scars covering his thick skin. For dragon standards he was still quite young, being the human equivalent of a nineteen year old but despite that he was massive, easily standing head and shoulders over any of the other winged reptilians in the reserve.

"I am Vlad, third generation leader of the horntails, and you, freak, have tried stealing from me. Lay the meat down and leave, if you want to live." Said the dragon in a language unintelligible to Silvern's ears.

Deciding that it would be disrespectful for him not to respond, the silver pup barked out a string of meaningless growls. A loud booming sound emanated from the large Hungarian Horntail. Apparently, the sound was the dragon equivalent of laughter.

"You haven't even been taught the 'tongue' yet?! How can you even call yourself a dragon?" He said in his deep, booming voice "Wait, why am I even speaking to you? It's not like you can even understand. Hey- what are you doing?!"

By the middle of Vlad's monologue Silvern had already gotten bored. The pup was still quite young in dragon terms- roughly four or five years old and kids his age quickly became bored by anything. Forgetting about the crazy horntail he continued dragging away the goat carcass in an effort to satisfy his growing hunger. Of course, the leader of the reds found this to be quite disrespectful, and with a simple swipe of his collossal wing the youngster was swept head-over-heels. He tumbled back a good distance, his side throbbing in pain.

"Since you had the audacity to steal from me, I will make a lesson of you to those who do not recognize the might of the great Vlad!" announcing loud enough to make his voice heard over the hundreds of dragons who were still loudly chomping on their meals while referring to himself in third-person, Vlad stomped towards the downed youngster, the earth booming with every step the large dragon took.

Silvern righted himself on all fours only to be forced onto the ground again by a vicious slash cross his side. Vlad had particularly long and sharp claws-even for a dragon- and so his attack had cut deep into Silvern's flesh, carving out a thick set of jagged lines running horizontally across his back. Hot blood ran from the wound, managing to drop onto the ground. The pain being unbearable for a youngster such as himself, Silvern was caught in a state of shock and was unable to stand up and attack or run away. All he could do was lie down quietly on the ground and hope that Vlad grew tired of beating up on a youngster.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Vlad was in a very good state of health and for two hours straight he was ferociously beaten by the aggressive Horntail who made sure to only give enough damage to the boy to make him whine out in pain, not kill him on impact.

"Hmm. That should be good enough. Though I suppose that the brat will die from blood loss soon enough. Though, I have to say that he survived pretty long for someone his age." Said Vlad to the few dragons still gathered around him.

It appeared as though they were his closest underlings, and as they walked off Silvern heard them grunting at their leader in an approving tone. Vlad's arrogant face was the last thing the young dragon saw before blacking out.

Something wet brushed across Silvern's face, and trying to remain in the warm embrace of sleep for as long as possible he rolled over to the side, only to immediately shoot awake when the throbbing pain from his earlier beating shot through him once more. Now that he had awoken he was aware of some new changes. His body was so hot that his metallic skin that usually shone with a silver brilliance was now a bright red, he was extremely dizzy and his head seemed to throb along with the bruise on his side. But the most important change would be the young dragoness facing him.

Unlike the other dragons who all seemed to be one uniform colour, she had a strange but beautiful mix of black and green scales. Her wingspan was much greater than his own, though she appeared to be roughly his own size, indicating that she was probably a few years older than him (since female dragons were smaller in size than males- in general, of course). Her eyes shone a dull red and the spikes on her thin tail were beginning to thicken, indicating that she was about to enter her so-called adolescent years, the time during which all dragons grew rapidly in size and eventually became fully-fledged adults.

Some might have wondered how you could differentiate between a male and female dragon, but it was actually quite simple once you actually saw them. Males had broader forelegs/ arms (depending on whether it be a bipedal dragon or not), wider chests, larger builds, longer snouts, rugged features as well as horns- which females don't have. Also, the males have sex organs attached to their bodies.

Of course, Silvern didn't yet have much interaction with other dragons so he wouldn't have been able to know that. He didn't even pay much attention to the female dragon, choosing instead to sat down quietly and allow his injuries to heal faster. The young dragoness, who'd kept quiet when he had awoken began conversing with him in a string of growls and other noises that held no meaning for him. With his head throbbing, he roared loudly as a warning for her to quiet down. The green-and-black dragon leapt back in fright, distancing herself from the angry Silver dragon.

For what seemed like hours the two youngsters stayed that way, with Silvern sitting on the hard, trampled ground surrounded by a puddle of his own blood, his eyed scrunched up so he could bear the intense pain, while the 'girl' watched him intensely from a safe distance away. With his enhanced senses he had noticed the annoying dragon watching him, and deciding to be a bit more hospitable he carefully walked towards her.

Her eyes filled with fright, she stepped backwards and not wanting her to run off Silvern let out a peaceful growl to show her that he meant no harm. Encouraged by his improved demeanour, she too walked towards Silvern. As they stood near each other she reached out her neck and licked at his face once more. Allowing her to finish whatever it is she was doing, he noticed that the older dragon was licking him clean of the dried blood that covered his scales. The feeling of her grooming him was actually quite pleasant. Anytime her tongue brushed over a sore muscle or cut a soothing feeling washed over it and miraculously it was healed.

When she was finished, his whole body felt refreshed. As though he hadn't even been beaten down by a completely insane red-skinned dragon. 'Why didn't she just heal me earlier?!' thought Silvern in annoyance. Of course, that was before he remembered that she had been licking him before he'd scared her. The young dragoness suddenly righted herself up, looking quite tired despite having only been licking him.

"So, who are you? Where's your family?" asked the dragoness in a language that sounded like gibberish to Silvern, who hadn't learned the language yet.

Apparently, his look of confusion had somehow given away the fact that he didn't know her language, and she seemed to nod in understanding. With surprising skill she used her tail to make a 'come hither' movement and walked off, only pausing to beckon him towards her once more.

'I can't do that with my tail…' thought Silvern enviously. Sure enough, most dragons didn't have the ability to do intricate movements with their tails and most could only swing it around wildly.

Since he didn't have anywhere to go, Silvern followed her closely. They began walking in the same direction that he had come from earlier and he had first thought that she was taking him to one of the numerous caves that littered the mountainside but she had walked past them without a glance. He was starting to wonder where it was exactly she was taking him. The valley was massive and surrounded on all sides by four large mountains, and it was on the side facing the valley that the dragon caves were built and as far as he knew all the dragons living in this reserve lived one of them- but apparently the dragon he was following didn't. They had long since walked beyond the valley, through a gap between two of the larger mountains.

The sun was already beginning to dip beneath the mountains, bathing the valley in a beautiful orange and red light. When they had finally gotten through the pass the silver dragon saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life. A vast body of water surrounded the mountain range, shimmering with a golden light. The land where he stood was flat and dry, but that ended abruptly leaving a forest of trees to stand before it. The forest ended at the water's edge with a wide trail cut through its centre.

For some reason, Silvern felt oddly happy and a smile graced his scaly features. Lost in the wondrous features before him, Silvern just stood there dumbstruck. An annoyed growl brought him back to the task at hand where he saw his female companion standing before a suspicious looking bush.

'What now?'

As if to answer his unspoken question, she parted the bush to reveal the mouth of a wide tunnel. Disappearing down it, she left Silvern where he had been standing. Not content to stand outside after the long trip to get here he followed her down the tunnel. At first it looked pretty normal for a tunnel. The walls and floor were slightly wet and muddy and smelt of mould. But soon that began to change. The muddy floor became one of a shiny molten yellow-ish metal. The walls appeared to be caked clay and jewels were embedded in them. Silvern was drawn to all the shiny things and wanted to stop and stare, but figured that he had gawked enough for one day.

They arrived at a massive spherical room, decorated in the same way that the passageway had been. Several passages were connected to the circular room and he vaguely heard noises coming down from the one nearest the left. The black and green dragoness didn't go down that one, choosing to go down the passage in the middle.

He hesitantly followed her, feeling a great source of energy coming from further down the passage. Unlike the other room and passage that had been bathed in light coming from a special sort of candle dragons utilised, there was no light and the darkness increased his unease (a hole was dug along the sides of the wall and was then filled with fats and other various oils and materials gathered from animal carcasses and from plants. This fat was then lit on fire whenever light was needed, the thick fat allowing the 'candle' to burn better than wood would and the mixture of plants let the flame burn longer).

The large source of energy he had sensed was now getting larger and larger, until he came face to face with a gargantuan dragon, easily twice the size Vlad had been. While most dragons had really good night-vision Silvern didn't and could just barely make out the creatures shape. His companion stepped towards this large creature (who she was obviously familiar with) and began talking to him rapidly in the language he couldn't understand.

The conversation was quite heated and carried on for several minutes. Suddenly they both stopped and the large dragon righted itself up on its hind legs, its head barely scraping the sixteen metre high roof. A mushroom shaped ball of fire blew out from his nostrils, allowing Silvern to see his face. It had a snub-snouted face with protuberant blue eyes. Golden spikes fringed its face and it was a sickly white colour.

So, youngster. Where do you hail from

_**-The Book Of Dragons-**_

_**By Edward Longbeard,**_

_**Dragonologist of the Vikings **_

_**This book is a comprehensive guide of all the dragons ever encountered by myself while working aboard the ship of the great Viking ruler, Eric the red. Dragons being a race of powerful winged reptilians who possess a great 'core' of magic. They have long been hunted by us Vikings and it is my wish that with this book we may become more efficient in our trade (despite everyone saying that they have no need for it).**_

_**COMMON SPECIES**_

_**The Prickly-Tailed Red**_

_**Common Name: **__Prickly Pear_

_**Region(s) Found: **__Greenland, Some Parts Of Northern Europe_

_**Length: **__55cm-75cm_

_**Height: **__30cm-40cm_

_**Weight: **__35kg_

_**Description: **__An extremely small dragon (relatively), they are deep red in colour and completely covered in short, prickly spikes. They are shaped like fat pears (hence the strange nickname) and have short and stubby legs. Some find them quite cute and keep them as pets- but be warned! Despite their cute appearance they actually have fearsome fire-breathing abilities. They have four legs._

_**Best Way Of Handling**__: Simply club them over the head while they are asleep (Prickly Pears are known for sleeping deeply). If that is impossible, dodge their flames (despite the intense power of their flames, they have a long 'reload' time) and cast any powerful spell (though anything more powerful than a weak reducto spell would be overdoing it)._

_**A/N: You guys may have noticed the whole 'dragon encyclopaedia' thing I have going on, and I might also add that the story of the Vikings will also be part of this story's plot going forwards. I will still also be giving an overview of spells/abilities shown in each chapter. I would consider adding an omake, but that's something normally done in manga fanfics so I decided against it. Anyway, I'll try to **_

_**I'm extremely sorry for the late update, but my computer crashed and I was forced to type this on my school PC (not to mention do it over). Regardless, that is no excuse and I hope that you can take solace in the fact that the next chapter is already half-way done. Also, I apologize for my shitty writing ability. As soon as I improve enough I will either rewrite or edit this entire story, so for the meanwhile could you please inform me of any errors or the like so that I can rectify them immediately. Thanks for your support.**_

_**-THE GRIM OVERLORD-**_


	3. Chapter 3- Half Breed Arc

_**HARRY POTTER: **_

_**TALES OF THE GREAT DRAGON**_

_**BY: The Grim Overlord**_

_**A/N: Welcome back to the new instalment of HP-TOTGD, hopefully this reaches you in good spirits. For some reason or other recently I seem to be having the worst deal of luck. My keyboard broke and I replaced it with a cheap ninety-rand Chinese make (I believe that would be equivalent to roughly 5 British pounds or 7.5 US dollars) which broke down about two days after I bought it. This whole annoyance right after I just managed to fix my PC. 'Sigh'. On a more relevant note, in this chapter I will begin fleshing out the story a bit more. The previous chapters should be considered the prologue to this chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: If thou thinkest that I be the owner 'o the Harry Potter franchise, the need'st though a trip to the loony house. As I have before spoketh, I am but a lowly peasant with nary a dime to my name, unlike the wealthy dame J. who ownest Harry Potter. **_

**CHAPTER 3,**

**MIX-BREED ARC**

The day thus far had been filled with surprises for young Harry. He had been released from his cage in the basement of the strange stick-wielders with all the strange powers, met a horde of fellow dragons who all seemed to hate him, was beat up by an annoying dragon, rescued by another dragon and was now face-to-face with another dragon, this one seemed to be the strangest of them all.

Standing at more than ten times his own height, the sickly white dragon instilled a sense of fear in him. Just minutes before he had been lead to this secret underground 'base' of sorts by the very same dragon who had quite possibly saved his life and he had then been presented before this powerful creature. After watching the two engage in a dialogue that he couldn't understand at all (since he had never been taught to speak), the white dragon had ended the discussion and stood to his full height, the ceiling just managing to reach over his head.

Then a string of words seemed to appear in his mind without him thinking them.

So, youngster. Where do you hail from?

Silvern had a feeling that the voice in his head was not a figment of his own imagination, but rather originated from the self-same sickly dragon that stood imposingly before him.

Quite clever aren't you? It normally takes most people several minutes before they can comprehend the possibility that someone could be speaking to them in their heads. In fact, some never believe it at all. 'said' the white dragon

'This is strange. I know that he is speaking to me, but how do I respond to him?' thought Silvern

That's easy enough young one. All you have to do is think something and I will hear it responded the giant beast. The sensation of 'speaking' with the white creature was strange. It felt as though there was a dull ache throughout his head.

'Like this?' thought Silvern

Yes, that's right. Now then young one, since it is quite rude to speak to someone without first introducing yourself, I would like you to refer to me as Mr Genius- though that unfortunately is not my real name.

'Okay, Mr Genius. I guess you could call me Silver. Though, could I ask why you won't tell me your proper name?' asked Silvern internally

Ahh, now that is a good question. You see, since you cannot as of yet understand the language I am speaking to you by 'saying' things in terms you understand. I couldn't for example explain to you the intricacies of 3$^#$686% ^ (*& because you cannot yet comprehend such a thing. Now, I do believe that I asked you a question. Since I answered yours it is only fair that you answer mine, is it not? replied Mr Genius

'Well, I really wish I could answer your question but I myself don't know the answer. The only thing I remember is waking up in a strange place feeling very hungry. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you.' apologized Silvern

The sound of roaring dragon laughter filled the cavern, lifting the pressure Silvern had been feeling since coming in this creature's presence.

You apologize for losing your memory? What a laughable pup you are. Now, I believe it's time we got down to business. You don't have a place to stay, correct? continued the elderly dragon

'Yes, that's right.' Replied Silvern

Then you shall stay here. Though it has been quite a pleasure speaking with you, I do believe that you should retire to your room. Tomorrow we shall begin your lessons and then hopefully engage in another good conversation announced Mr Genius

Further surprised at this turn of events, Silvern nodded stiffly in reply. Mr Genius's lips seemed to curl up into a smile and he barked a string of words at the young dragoness who had been waiting impatiently at his feet. Replying with a string of growls she walked back at Harry and had him follow her with a flick of her tail.

As their backs disappeared from his sight the elderly dragon leaned back into his massive throne-like chair causing the ground to tremble as if there was a light earthquake. Then, in a language obviously human he said:

"Ahh. These next few years are going to be quite interesting with you here, young Harry. "

**Several Months Earlier,**

**14 Privet Drive**

Privet Drive was filled with nearly identical double storeys that had neatly-trimmed lawns and well-kept gardens, and of all these dreary houses the grandest one would have to be the Dursley home. Mr and Mrs Dursley had spent quite the fortune to ensure that their home was the most beautiful. Their lawn seemed to glow a vibrant green and they called in a professional gardener once a week to make sure that their flowerbed was filled with the most beautiful flowers. Mr Dursley worked for Grunnings-one of the best drilling companies in Britain- and hoped to rise quickly through the ranks and get enough money to afford the holiday home he and his wife had been dreaming of.

For that reason he often invited his superiors over to his home in the hopes he could manage to impress them enough to get a promotion. That morning Mr Dursley had invited George Welsh- one of the senior staff members- to a quiet dinner. He had been rehearsing the entire evening with his wife and son (a plump seven month old baby named Dudley) and was sure that George would put in a good word for him with the boss.

Petunia Dursley (Mr Dursley's wife) had dressed herself in her finest blue silk dress which, quite frankly, looked horrid on her. Petunia looked like a long-necked giraffe that had been left in a dark room for several months without any food. Her skin was unnaturally pale and she was so thin that she resembled a drug addict. On the other end of the spectrum was her husband and son. Vernon's expensive suit was stretched to its limits and looked like it would burst at the seams at any minute. His rotund appearance along with his moustache gave him the appearance of a walrus. Their son Dudley was dressed similarly to Vernon and looked like his baby doppelganger- without facial hair, of course.

The family was waiting impatiently in the dining room where a large assortment of foods lie on expensive silverware. In the centre of the table- and resembling their son to a great degree- was a large pig who had an apple stuffed into his mouth. The entire affair looked quite fancy and Vernon was sure that George would sing his praises to Mr Grunnings come Monday morning.

At exactly 8 pm a silver Lexus pulled into their driveway and an elderly man stepped out. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and white shorts Mr Welsh looked the part of a retired man living at a beachside home. The man was known to be quite fun-loving (one could even say lazy) but he was the best friend of the boss since the two had been in elementary school and had the man's utmost respect. If the evening went as Vernon had foreseen he would be promoted by the end of next week. After being ushered in with praises from Petunia he was seated across from Vernon at the head of the table.

"Quite the affair you have going on here Vernon" complimented George

His cheeks reddening with pride, Vernon replied "Oh, think nothing of it George. Only the best would be acceptable for a man of your esteem. Do try the lobster, it is Petunia's specialty"

Graciously accepting, George dug into his meal with gusto. For the length of the evening Vernon and Petunia gave the elderly businessman compliments while dropping not-so-subtle hints about Vernon wanting a promotion. Thereafter the men retired to the lounge where Petunia would bring the dessert and Vernon would tell George the golfing jokes he had been practicing for the entire week. It seemed that the night would go just as Vernon had planned… until a knock sounded at the door just as the obese man was reaching the height of his (racist) Japanese golfer joke.

"-Goddamnit, who could it be at this hour? Petunia, be a dear and get the door."

His bony wife had already been on her way to the door though and simply responded by saying "Yes darling"

"Now where were we? Oh yes, the Japanese golfer had just grabbed the-"

As Petunia swung open the door she came across a sight unfamiliar to her. Dressed in hideous blue overalls with a nametag attached to the front was a dark haired man. Though that might not have been too strange in itself, the man was just too plain in appearance. His face appeared completely forgettable and had no distinguishing markings. He was the sort who would easily be lost in a crowd- were it not for his blue overalls, that is.

"What is it you want?" asked Mrs Dursley in a haughty manner. The Dursley's were known to be quite proud people and looked down upon anyone who seemed to be of a lesser station.

"Good evening madam, I am Mr Dole Beud of child services and I was sent here to inspect the condition of your nephew Harry Potter who is said to be in your care." Said the man respectfully

At the mention of the word 'Potter' Petunia's mightier-than-thou appearance was replaced with one of anger, disgust and perhaps a little bit of fear. Her 'beloved' sister had married into that weirdo family and had been suitably been dealt with when she along with her son and Husband had been killed in a gas explosion in Godric's Hollow several months earlier. "How dare you mention that child infront of me?! I don't know what game you are playing at but I don't want anything to do with those weirdo's. Now leave!" with those words Mrs Dursley tried to slam the door in the strange man's face but her attempt was foiled when the man held tightly onto the door and pushed his way inside.

He appeared to be in a state of panic and pulled a long white stick from his trouser pocket, a stick that held deep meaning to Mrs Dursley who let out a hideous shriek that brought Mr Dursley and George Welsh to them.

"Now what in blazes is going on here?!" shouted Mr Dursley

Meanwhile the stick-wielding man had waved his stick wildly around the entrance causing nothing at all to happen. This seemed to further increase his panic and his face began to contort in rage… and then it change entirely. His ordinary brown eyes began to twinkle with a blue light, the plain brown hair framing his face turned grey, his skin began showing noticeable wrinkles and an impossibly long grey beard sprouted instantly from his face. Lastly his hideous blue overalls became hideous blue robes and old timey spectacle appeared on his face.

At this magical display Vernon Dursley pointed one of his fat fingers in anger at the man now revealed to be Dumbledore. "FREAK! Get the hell out of my house!"

Professor Dumbledore ignored him completely, choosing instead to grip his wand tightly in frustration- causing several angry looking sparks to fly from the tip. For months now he had been getting a strange feeling of dread and had eventually had a sinking feeling that his bad feeling had something to do with young Harry. After pushing that thought to the back of his mind for several weeks he had thought up a plan to see him without drawing suspicion from the wizard-hating Dursley's. Changing his features with magic had been stupidly easy, as had transfiguring his wizarding robes and apparating just outside of the Little Whinging area.

Now Dumbledore was forced to spring into action. He had to do something about this situation right now or there would be big problems later on- it would not do for the Dursley's to make a big stink of this situation by going to the muggle police. Without a second thought, Dumbledore pointed his wand at Vernon's bloated body and casted a memory charm. Using the memory charm he had made the three witnesses believe that he had ever came knocking at their door that evening. Though their memory of the night would be fuzzy they would just think that the evening had gone along without a hitch.

Unfortunately, there was a common side-effect that sometimes occurred to people who had experienced a deeply traumatic event before a memory charm was cast on them. Often times they would hold onto their impressions or the feelings they had felt during the event even if they couldn't recall what exactly had happened. It was for this very reason that Mr George Welsh, an ordinary man who had lived a most ordinary life left that night with the feeling that something really strange had occurred during his meeting with the Dursley family.

With his mind not quite recalling the event properly and with him trying to figure out why the night had felt so weird George conjured up his own version of what had happened and when Monday morning came Mr Dursley was called to the boss's office. Thinking that his plan had worked out even better than he had thought Vernon expected a promotion. After strutting smugly through the office corridors he was then told by Mr Grunnings himself that he was being laid off.

This event led to a ripple effect that would change the Dursley's lives forever.

Albus Dumbledore's withered old face lie asleep upon his varnished oak desk, a stack of paperwork acting as a makeshift pillow. The desk was littered with various strange instruments with no discernible purpose and a coffee mug lie beside the stack of paperwork. The room where he now slept was handsomely decorated with exotic looking furniture and book shelves lined the walls filled with a wealth of knowledge from all topics known to man. From gardening to spell books long forgotten by all but a handful of scholars.

Upon a wooden perch that matched Dumbledore's desk stood the most magnificent looking thing in the entire office. Covered in brilliant red and yellow plumage was a magnificent bird. The wondrous colours of its feathers made the bird look almost as though it was set alight. Its sharp beak resembling that of a hawk, this creature was known to the wizarding world as a phoenix. This phoenix was professor Dumbledore's long-time companion and was named Fawkes.

Dumbledore's office was the largest in the Hogwarts castle seeing as he was the headmaster. The room was passed on from headmaster to headmaster going back to the time of the founding fathers. Some of the early headmasters had immortalized themselves in magical portraits which now hung imposingly on the walls, their stern visages gazing down protectively over the contents of the office. Using powerful magic the paintings in the castle had been given the ability to have true consciousness unlike the moving photos magical newspapers often showed off which could only move in repetitive patterns they could respond to their surroundings as if they were alive.

The strange tradition of making an animated portrait of dead headmasters went back to the thirteenth century when the last known direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor had magically appeared on an empty portrait hung behind his desk upon his death. After consulting with his portrait they found that he had often experimented with magic and had come up with an idea that could help all future headmasters of Hogwarts protect their students by giving them access to a wide range of experienced men of the same station who could give them counsel.

A revolutionary step forward in magic, the procedure was then attempted by a further fifteen headmasters since its invention. Of the fifteen further attempts only nine had been completed successfully. An extremely intricate series of ritualistic runes spanning many different cultures was drawn in a hidden room beneath the castle dungeons- this step of the procedure often took up to seven years (and that was if it was being done by a very proficient witch or wizard). During the next step a series of magical creatures was to be sacrificed upon the runes while magical chants were to be uttered. Finally, upon their death a fragment of their soul was split from their bodies which would then be trapped into a portrait specifically prepared for them.

Dumbledore himself had started the soul-portrait procedure two years earlier and with his skill was already nearing completion of the first stage. Of course, the second stage was still the most difficult though it might not seem that way. The magical creatures that had to be sacrificed for the procedure were all powerful and difficult to obtain or encounter- though two in particular were legendary in their own right.

The first creature was a leviathan, a hideous monster thought to be a sign of the apocalypse by ancient wizards. The Leviathan was titanic in size, being nearly twelve times bigger than an adult blue whale. It's unbelievably thick green-blue skin was impervious to all but the most powerful of spells and its many limbs could be sung with enough force to completely level even the sturdiest of buildings. The second was one even more powerful. A creature shrouded in myth and mystery, this creature was known as a Greater Dragon.

But such topics had long since been forgotten by professor Dumbledore for he had much more important things to attend to- or rather one 'thing' in particular. That thing was named Harry Potter. The boy had all but disappeared off the face off the earth and Dumbledore could not trace him no matter what arcane tracking spell he used (unknown to Dumbledore that was because Harry was in the Romanian reserve, a place warded with hundreds of different magic's to protect it and the creatures that lived there). He had on several occasions pondered if the reason he could not trace Harry was because the boy had died but he had thrown that idea out of the idea after remembering that he had previously used a spell that would find anybody, regardless of whether they had died or not and the spell had not worked.

He had tried everything within his own power to find Harry but he was unable to. All of his other resources was being used to prevent the incident from being publicly announced by the ministry- if people found out that their saviour, the boy who lived, was missing they might do unfathomable things. Not to mention the fact that the remaining death eater enthusiasts who had yet to be rounded up would jump at the chance to find Harry and murder him were they to know that he was no longer under Dumbledore's protection. Just the night earlier he had begun writing frantically to his many associates within the ministry to try and calm down the situation and with the unbelievable pressure he was under (not to mention the sleepless nights) he had fallen asleep at his desk.

As a light snore left the sleeping wizard a strange presence vaguely appeared in the skylight above his head, a pair of piercing sickly green eyes seemingly staring at him in frustration.

A bed of straw lies in the middle of a cramped, dank room. The room was dug haphazardly into the rock, the only light source being a misshapen lump of fat shaped crudely into a candle. Lying there upon that bed of thick straw was a young silver dragon, even in the weak light that came from the candle his scales shone and sparkled mysteriously. Unbeknownst to the rest of the wizarding world- and even to himself- this young dragon was in actual fact the very saviour that had disappeared from their midst. This young dragon was Harry Potter himself and he was sleeping happily, a belly filled with food keeping him content.

After sleeping deeply for hours he was now beginning to stir from his deep sleep. Bright green eyes fluttered open and began looking about the surroundings. Relaxing when he found everything to be in order Harry let out a deep sigh of relief. Still feeling quite sleepy and not yet ready to release the warmth of his surprisingly comfortable straw bed, he decided to lie in for a while longer.

Drawing his clawed hand closer to his face he studied it intently while lost in thought. Unlike the other members of his species he had seen thus far, his own hands ended in five fingers and toes which were quite long and dextrous making them resemble the hands and feet of a human's much more than the stubby four or three fingered ones other dragons usually had.

Of course his hands and feet weren't the only things about Harry that was strange. His wings were small and unsuitable for flight, his horns were unnaturally long and heavy and the only reason his head wasn't hanging down on the floor was his equally unnaturally large shoulders. Fortunately he wasn't of a strange size- though his build was quite wiry instead of the bulky shape others possessed. But the weirdest thing about him was his silver scales. Shining brightly even in the darkest night, Harry's scales were hard as steel.

Though in this place his scales weren't as strange as they might have been elsewhere. Dubbed 'The Labyrinth' by the members old enough to have traversed all of its impossibly long passages and secret rooms, this place was a haven for those outcast from the mountain by the pure-breeds. Having already been living here for nearly two months, Harry was only just beginning to get used to its impressive size.

Apparently it had first been built over three hundred years ago by the dragon respectfully called the 'Great One' (Harry on the other hand refused to call him by that strange title and took to calling him by his actual name- Salzorn) who had then began taking in outcasts from the mountains and teaching them all they needed not only to survive but to thrive. Eventually Salzorn had retired to his current abode, the grandest room in the entire labyrinth and the young abandoned dragons he had taken in- who were now quite powerful in their own right- had begun expanding the labyrinth on their own and taking care of other outcasts as Salzorn had done for them when they were in need.

Using the innate ability to breathe flame most dragons possessed it was a simple task to build and enlarge rooms underground therefore the five dragons who were now in charge had only built tiny rooms to accommodate newer members as they were under the impression that when and if the room's current occupant wanted a larger room they would enlarge it on their own time. Obviously since breathing fire was a trait considered normal amongst dragons Harry couldn't breathe fire and instead breathed waves of energy- which might have been cool in its own right had it not left Harry with an annoying problem. The room was quickly becoming too small for him.

As dragons entered their third year of life they entered a stage humans might call 'puberty' but which they called 'advancement'. The dragon grew rapidly in size, their magical core- the wellspring from which they drew the power needed to fly or breathe flames- expanded rapidly allowing for lengthier flight and more powerful flames. Of course, that was not all that occurred during an awekini-

Harry was brought from his musings by the voice of his friend Annalisa, a beautiful green and black dragoness who had brought him to the labyrinth. "Stand up Rex, it's time for the morning feeding"

As he hadn't recalled anything about his parents nor himself since before he had woken up in those rose bushes all those moons ago the elder had begun calling him Rex and the rest of the labyrinth's occupants had followed suit.

"Morning to you too, Anna" he said tiredly.

Dragons soaked in information like sponges and Harry had been no different (though Salzorn had said that he learned things even faster than was normal for dragons, much to his embarrassment), learning most of the dragon-tongue in a few months. A resounding 'thwack' echoed around the room when a long red-and-black tail hit him square in the head.

"Oww! Ok, ok, I'll get up! No need to get worked up" said Rex

"You'd better. I'll see you in the dining room" threatened Anna. She walked off, her tail swishing threateningly behind her as she did.

Making sure she had left and wasn't just waiting for him out of sight (as she had done on more than one occasion) Rex let his fall back on the soft straw, a sigh escaping his jaws. He didn't like showing it infront of Anna but ever since he had come to this place he had been in a bit of a depression. Too many things had happened to him in too short a time and he didn't know how to handle them all. Letting his eyes fall for a little while longer, Harry hoped that she wouldn't be too angry with him if he arrived a bit late.

_**-The Book Of Dragons-**_

_**By Edward Longbeard,**_

_**Dragonologist of the Vikings **_

_**This book is a comprehensive guide of all the dragons ever encountered by myself while working aboard the ship of the great Viking ruler, Eric the red. Dragons being a race of powerful winged reptilians who possess a great 'core' of magic. They have long been hunted by us Vikings and it is my wish that with this book we may become more efficient in our trade (despite everyone saying that they have no need for it).**_

_**COMMON SPECIES**_

_**Spotted Blue Tri-horn**_

_**Common Name: **__Three Horn_

_**Region(s) Found: **__Northern Europe_

_**Length: **__4.5-7m_

_**Height: **__1.5-2m_

_**Weight: **__1350kg_

_**Description: **__Roughly average in size, this blue dragon is covered in bright green spots scattered all over its tough hide. Its leathery wings are three metres across. The Tri-horn sprays a wide jet of searing flames. _

_**Best Way Of Handling**__: Cast a powerful protego each time the dragoon rears its head back in preparation for its flame attack and then use a conjunctivitis curse when up close._

_**Encounter Info: **__We encountered this little dragon in a cave near the shore we landed on at dawn. It's appearance is quite average despite its weird paint job and we had no problem defeating and skinning it, In fact our powerful leader Eric the red easily managed to catch two elderly Three Horn's and bash the two of them against the wall as though he were cleaning mud off his boots. But don't think that to mean that this dragon is a pushover, on the contrary it could be quite difficult for an untrained wizard or warrior to handle this beast. Its powerful flames and razor sharp thirty centimetre long claws are deadly. _

_**A/N: Thank you for reading. I know this chapter ended abruptly but I figured I could split it into two chapters. I know that some might be thinking it implausible for Harry to be this intelligent but you have to remember that in this story they are quite intelligent and there are many reasons as to why the setting is as it currently is and they will be appearing in future chapters. I'm thinking about doing some heavy editing to the story but I think I'll first let it reach 30 000 or so words. Please give me feedback as to any faults you think there are in the story. I hoped you enjoyed it! Until next time.**_

_**-The Grim Overlord-**_


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